


Circa 2001

by megyal



Series: Dance, Dance [1]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-18
Updated: 2008-04-18
Packaged: 2017-10-28 10:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megyal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before they were famous, there was a prom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Circa 2001

Patrick clambered up the wide metal stands in front of the soccer field, eyes fixed on the small figure stretched out in the corner, on the highest seat. He huffed his way over to Pete's prone form, grinning down at him.

"That was good. At least, nearly everybody said so, so, you know, one hundred kids can't be wrong, but still, kids are kids. Kids have a little taste nowadays, I've been told."

"Mmmhh," Pete managed from under the arm that was flung over his face. "Ghhhhgghhh."

"I _know_ , right? But we'll sort it out later, I'll work out a little snare into that section you were bitching about, so. Don't worry." He sat down as Pete removed his arm and raised his head a little, gazing down at where Patrick was perched happily at his feet. Pete blinked at him and gave him a slow smile, pleased and cat-like. Patrick smiled back against his will, blinking all the while. "What. What?"

"You're all fucking _bubbly_ ," Pete said in that slow, tired voice he had nearly after every show, rasping over every word. "I thought you were all nervous playing in front of all the kids at your school. You puked on my shoes."

"Your shoes _deserved_ puke," Patrick pointed out, shifting away with a little laugh as he tried to avoid Pete kicking him in the nearest thigh. "But, yeah, wouldn't you be nervous if you played in front of a prom full of your peers? Seriously."

"I have no peers," Pete said conversationally. "I am without peer. And no, I don't get nervous, not anymore. I'm over that, too old for that shit."

"I bet." Patrick's voice was dry and amused; Pete sat up, and looked at him closely, causing Patrick's face to feel a little warm under the solid dark weight of his eyes. In the darkness of the warm night around them, Pete's eyes were almost black; not their usual sharp amber that seemed to fix constantly on Patrick whenever they were talking about shit, from that movie Gladiator to that missing girl, Levy was her last name. Pete pulled up his knees, legs crossed at his ankles, inspiring a fit of envy in Patrick over his general bendiness. He waggled his eyebrows at Patrick, who braced himself for a round of teasing.

"Next year, it'll be _your_ prom," Pete said with a sing-song lilt. "Gotta start preparing from now, man. Need to find your date and wear them down with constant nagging, ' _pleasepleaseplease come with me to the prom?_ '"

"Wow. Was that the way you lured in all the ladies, with those sweet, seductive words?" Patrick was laughing almost silently, tugging at the hem of his black shirt, the one his mother tried to get him to dump, because it was kind of tight.

Pete shrugged, an expressive lift of one shoulder, brushing a hand through his short hair. A few months ago, he had tried to dye it some weird-ass color. Joe had practically lain on the floor in Pete's basement and laughed until he could hardly breathe, and Pete had shaved off nearly all of it in a strange fit of embarrassment. When Joe laughed at a person, they were well and truly laughed at.

Patrick liked the short hair; it brought Pete's face and eyes into a sort of soft focus, highlighting the shape of his eyes and the colour of his skin.

"I'm persistent, what can I say." Pete's smile was sly; Patrick rolled his eyes, but still smiled at him, because sometimes all a person could do was smile at Pete. A hesitant choir of crickets sang around them; the lights of the basketball court were still on, but not too intrusive on their shadowy little enclave. Patrick could smell the freshly-cut grass and how the night was almost on the verge of true summer, ready to tumble over into those long breathless days that seemed as if they never wanted to end.

He could still hear the prom going on, the DJ mixing up some Missy as the faint cheers of the seniors and their dates rose up in the school auditorium. The theme had been pink this year, apparently, and the amount of glitter had made Patrick feel all cross-eyed; but the crowd had listened to them play, willingly enough. Pete had been his usual screaming delight, and a couple of the crowd in all their prom finery had come up to him after and told him they kinda rocked. Not one hundred kids, like he'd told Pete, but it was close enough for government work.

And there was this girl, Anna, she was in a few of his classes. She'd been here at the prom with senior who had asked her.

"That was loud," was what she had offered when she had stopped him near the punch with a small smile. "But I liked it, you guys should play again next year."

"Next year," Patrick had replied with a laugh. "Sure. Yeah, you know, we will. If we can. As long as there's not too much pink around."

"Oh, yeah, that!" Anna had looked around them with a dry grin, as pink streamers hung down like frivolous vines in a forest. "This is not so bad." She squinted, wrinkling her nose a little. Patrick thought it had been cute. "Actually, it is kinda bad. I'll make sure to be on the committee next year, enforce a Pink Ban. For you."

Now, as Patrick mused half-heartedly about Anna's wide smile, he felt Pete's nose nudging against the lobe of his ear.

"Hey, what," he said with a shudder that was not quite surprise. Pete was much closer than before, legs still crossed at the ankles as if he had scooted over on his butt, crab-like. Pete tried to look innocent, but it didn't really work; Patrick thought that innocence would never display well on a face like Pete's. He pulled back a little, but did not move away. "What are you doing?"

"You're warm," Pete said, tone slightly defensive. "And you were spacing out on me a little. I was trying to get your attention."

"Whatever happened to calling a person by their name?" Patrick wondered as Pete insisted on stretching his legs around Patrick; one leg went around his back, the other extended over Patrick's lap. Patrick was trapped in the vee of his legs, feeling a little uncomfortable as Pete crowded into him, crossing arms over his own chest and resting his cheek against Patrick's shoulder with a content sigh. "Are you _comfy_ , Pete? Really, just make yourself at home."

"Sure thing, Stumph," Pete murmured. "You're like a little fireplace, it's so awesome."

"It's not _that_ cold right now."

"I just want to be near you," Pete declared in a heartfelt manner. "I don't think that's too much to ask."

Patrick suppressed a sardonic smile, feeling Pete's breath trickle down against his arm. Maybe Pete didn't know, but he'd heard _all_ about Pete's little exploits from Joe (who called them _sexploits_ , but that was just Joe being Joe), all the kids that sauntered around for his attention at shows, all brilliant eyes and painted-on clothes. Pete probably thought that Patrick was still all awed over him, and in a way he was, because Pete Wentz was _Pete Wentz_ ; but there was no way he was letting Pete get whatever he wanted, just like that. Really, he had standards, and shit. He waited until Pete got even more secure in his position and then started squirming.

"Stop that!" Pete sound grumpy, trying to burrow close again. Honestly, he was like a little kid most times.

"Remember you promised my mom to get me home before one," he reminded Pete, finally extricating himself from Pete's grabby limbs and looking at the broad face of his watch meaningfully. The DJ was mixing 'Butterfly', and the crowd was yelling the lyrics, their shouts rising to the stars: _Such a sexy, sexy pretty little thing_! Good times, they were enjoying themselves. Nice. For most of them, it was the last day of high-school partying. They were good to go. "It's… twelve-thirty. Come on, let's go."

Pete gave him a pointed, considering glance, but allowed Patrick to haul him up by the armpits and lead them down the metal steps.

 _fin_


End file.
